


Of Monsters and Men

by asecretfanaccount



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Brief Depiction of an Allergic Reaction, Brief Hospitalization, Canon-typical language, Demon Shane Madej, Denial of Feelings, If you are from Buzzfeed don't read this, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining, Ryan is stressed, first time writing rpf, haunted locations, kind of, mild body horror
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-28
Updated: 2019-06-26
Packaged: 2020-02-09 06:38:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18632812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asecretfanaccount/pseuds/asecretfanaccount
Summary: After an incident during an investigation, Ryan starts to notice little things about Shane that make less sense the more he focuses on them.





	1. Little Talks

**Author's Note:**

> I have never written rpf before so if they are wildly out of character I'm sorry.  
> Constructive criticism welcome and deeply appreciated.

Ryan hates this. Everything about this. The crew has already left for the night so it’s just Shane and him. Alone. The light from his flashlight catches on the edges of the rickety chairs that line the walls, casting shadows that twist and morph into creatures just at the edge of his vision. A floorboard creaks somewhere above his head and he whirls around smacking into Shane.

“Whoa, oh ok! Are you ok?” Shane says, grabbing Ryan’s shoulders in an attempt to not topple over. The laughter evident in his voice.

“Did you hear that?” Ryan demanded, ignoring Shane. He steps back, putting more space between them.

“It’s an old house,” Shane shrugs “full of old house noises.” He shimmies his shoulders.

Ryan huffs out a laugh, he looks ridiculous, “You’re full of shit, Shane. Come on, let’s go upstairs and set up where we’re going to sleep.” He shudders at the thought and makes his way over to the stairs only to find that Shane is still standing where he left him staring at the far corner of the room. It’s freaky as fuck. “You good over there, Big Guy? You’re kinda freakin’ me out,” Shane’s head snaps around to look at him.

“Sorry,” he grinned, “zoned out for a second there.” He runs his hand through his hair, making it stand on end and Ryan stares at him for a second before shaking his head.

“Well hurry up and get over here, I’m not going upstairs by myself,” Ryan says, glancing up the steep and narrow steps, the walls seem almost concave from where he’s standing.

Shane laughs and makes his way over to him, “What, you want me to hold your hand or something,” he nudges Ryan with his elbow.

“Shut up, Shane,” Ryan says. The thought flits through his mind anyway. Shane’s unnecessarily long fingers interlaced with his own. “Be too big anyway,” he mutters face burning and Shane glances at him bemused.

“This is the room where the previous owners did most of the satanic rituals,” Ryan exposits for the sake of the viewers. His eyes huge and restless, flitting from shadow to shadow.

“And where we’re sleeping,” Shane adds cheerfully, winking at the camera.

“My mind is going to fucking melt,” Ryan says through gritted teeth, “Three people died in this room. Would it kill you to act a little bit scared?” He glances at Shane.

“Probably,” He says, looking back at him.

“Asshole,” Ryan says, turning back to the camera.

“You know it, baby!” Shane draws out the y and puts his hands behind his head. Ryan doesn’t roll his eyes, but it’s a close thing.

They set up their sleeping bags and Ryan takes a little leather bag out of his pocket and starts sprinkling something around the perimeter of the room. 

Shane visibly tenses and asks “Uh, whatcha got there Little Guy?”

“Sage,” Ryan answers, “I read that it’s used for purification and protection. You know, kind of like salt,” He continues sprinkling the sage and out of the corner of his eye he sees Shane start to scratch at his arm and pace which- weird right? That’s weird. “You good Big Guy?” He ignores him. Ryan stops putting sage everywhere and walks over to him, “Shane? Are you ok?” nothing, so Ryan does the only thing he can think of and grabs him by the hand as he goes to walk by him again “Shane! What’s going on? Are you alright?”

Shane has stopped scratching his arm, mostly because Ryan is holding his hand hostage. He looks at Ryan and for a split second his eyes look red. “I think I’m allergic to that stuff,” he says and his voice sounds rough like he’s just inhaled a lungful of smoke.

“Oh shit!” Ryan drops his hand like it burned him. He had that stuff all over his hands and he just touched him, “Fuck. Shit, ok, ok, I’ll-um, I’ll call Devon and-” he fumbles for his phone ghosts forgotten for the moment. “Let’s get outside, ok bud?” He says “Get away from this stuff.” 

His phone clicks and Devon’s voice on the other end sounds tinny and tired but he’s a little too busy freaking out to feel bad that he probably woke her up “Hello? Ryan, what’s up?”

“Shane’s having an allergic reaction to the sage I brought.” He tells her as he leads Shane down the stairs.

“And you didn’t call 911… why?” she asks slightly exasperated.

“Um…” Ryan glances behind him to make sure Shane is still behind him. He’s stopped scratching his arm so Ryan counts that as progress. “I panicked?”

“Call 911 and I’ll be there as soon as possible,” Devon sighs and the line goes dead.

Ryan takes her advice and by the time they make out of the front door an ambulance is on the way. He’s pretty sure he’s more freaked out than Shane is at this point, “I’m so sorry Shane, I put that stuff everywhere and then I touched you with it all over my hands. How are you feeling? Can you breathe? Is your hand okay? I-”

Shane grabs him by the shoulders breaking him out of his spiral and he ends up blinking up at Shane with his mouth open, “Calm down, it’s okay. I’m fine, I’m alright,” Shane says half laughing. His voice is still rough Ryan notes and his right hand is an angry red where he touched it. “You didn’t know,” Shane continues, “It’s not your fault.”

Shane’s hands are absurdly warm where they’re resting on his shoulders and he worries that he might be running a fever. Shane has always run cool so this probably isn’t normal or he’s just being paranoid. Not that paranoia isn’t warranted in this situation considering. He realizes a little belatedly that he never responded and he’s just been staring like an idiot. Sue him he’s worried. Shane, to his credit, doesn’t call him out on it. Ryan shrugs off his hands as they hear the crunch of gravel as the ambulance pulls up, followed closely by Devon and the rest of the crew.


	2. Wolf in Sheeps Clothing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next morning Shane comes to cheer Ryan up.

The hospital waiting room is just like any other hospital waiting room Ryan has ever been in and he hates it. There’s some local news channel playing on the outdated t.v. in the corner and his watch reads half-past three. His leg hasn’t stopped bouncing since he got here and his phone has been dead for almost as long. The rest of the crew are debating the merits of D.C. versus Marvel and while normally Ryan would have taken the opportunity to point out the ridiculousness of Visions death, his thoughts just kept circling back to the fact that it’s his fault that they’re all stuck here. Objectively he knows that he couldn’t have known that Shane was allergic to sage but that doesn’t mean that he can prevent the guilt that’s slowly choking him more with each passing hour. 

When the doctor finally comes out and tells them that Shane will be fine the group lets out a collective breath and Ryan is on his feet immediately “Can I see him?” he asks. He hears Devon chuckle behind him and the tips of his ears burn.

The doctor glances at her clipboard and then back at him, “You may. Though you will have to stay back if you came into contact with any sage.” Ryan nods remembering the red of Shane’s hand after he had grabbed it.

The group follows her through the hospital and when they arrive at Shane’s room he’s sitting cross-legged on the bed filling out paperwork wearing a hospital gown, “Shane!” Devon called sauntering over, “we thought we lost ya.”

“Nope,” Shane laughs “It’ll take more than a little plant get rid of me,” he rolls his shoulders and makes eye contact with Ryan before winking. Ryan splutters out an awkward laugh, face burning.

TJ slaps Shane on the back “Pity,” he deadpans. Shane chokes on his laugh and spends the next couple of seconds coughing while the group laughs.

“So how ya feelin’?” Ryan asks from his spot by the door. 

“Better. My skin isn’t on fire anymore so that’s a plus,” Shane jokes, “Why so far away buddy?” The question is asked innocently enough but for some reason, Ryan thinks there is a weight behind it that he doesn’t understand.

“I was covered in sage, remember. I haven’t had time to change so…” He shrugs trailing off. Shane seems happy with the answer. 

“Well,” starts Devon, “We should probably get out of here soon. You-” she says to Shane “Hurry up with that paperwork I’m starving.”

“Yes ma’am,” he says saluting her with his pen.

The next day Ryan wakes to a knock at his door. He groggily makes his way over wondering who in the fuck decided to wake him up at this hour. He opens the door and is greeted by the sight of Shane grinning down at him looking all soft with his stupid Hawaiian shirt, hair sticking up every which way and glasses perched at the end of his nose. He realizes a little too late that he’s only wearing his boxers and he almost closes the door in Shane’s face.

“You’re a hazard,” he tells him without really meaning to and turns to go find some clothes leaving Shane in the doorway.

“Oh?” He hears Shane laugh behind him and the soft click of the door being shut “I’m not the one nearly naked, you know.”

“Shut up, Shane,” Ryan can hear him getting closer but he refuses to turn around until he’s at least wearing a shirt. He digs around in his bag before “Ah ha!” he yells before pulling on a clean white t-shirt and the nearest pair of jeans, his black ones with the rips in the knees. Before nearly colliding with Shane for the second time in twenty-four hours “Ah! What- why, the fuck Shane? Warn a guy would you, Jesus Christ!” he puts a hand over his heart and huffs an exaggerated breath. Shane bears his teeth in a grin and Ryan can’t help but notice that they look sharp almost too sharp but then he blinks and their normal again. Weird. Ryan backs away, “So what do you want?” He says affecting nonchalance and desperately hoping Shane won’t notice.

“Just wanted to make sure you were doing okay after last night.” He says like Ryan was the one who nearly went into anaphylactic shock. “You were pretty shaken up about the whole thing,” with his hands in his pockets he almost looks like he doesn’t care about the answer but Ryan knows better. He sits on the bed and Shane sits next to him, not quite touching. Ryan sort of hates that he notices.

“I mean, fine I guess. Better than you were doing anyway,” he tries to joke but it falls flat, “I still feel guilty though, about the whole thing. I should have checked with you first or noticed that something was wrong sooner or something.” He fidgets. 

“Ryan,” Shane says, “Hey, Ryan, it’s okay. You couldn’t have known. Hell,” He says gesturing emphatically “I didn’t even know so quit blaming yourself. I’m still alive right?” He smiles softly at Ryan.

Ryan’s heart is beating a little too fast and the space beneath his sternum feels like it’s filled with butterflies. Fuck. Not good. Not good. He smiles shakily at him and shakes his head, “Yeah, unfortunately.”

Shane feigns hurt as he slaps a hand over his chest and drapes himself dramatically over Ryan, “I’m wounded, Bergara. Deeply wounded.”

Ryan barks out a laugh “Get off of me you Sasquatch!” He shoves Shane off of him. Shane lands with a thump on the floor and sits for a second looking stunned before grabbing Ryan and attempting to pull him off the bed.

“If I go down you go down to!” He yells.

“Ah! No, let me go!” Ryan shouts trying to resist. Shane is surprisingly strong for a guy who actively avoids exercise.

“Resistance is futile,” Shane cackles as he finally succeeds, Ryan lands next to him in a heap on the floor. They both are laughing so hard that there are tears in their eyes.

“You are the worst,” Ryan gasps, whacking Shane’s shoulder. Shane is too busy laughing to respond. His head is thrown back and the early morning sun shines through his hair like a halo. His teeth seem almost too big for his mouth, too sharp. Ryan shakes his head, but they stay the same. He reaches out and grabs Shane’s face, turning it to the side.

“Whatcha doin’?” Shane asks voice distorted and slightly strained.

“Your teeth,” he says, “they look so sharp?” It comes out a question as he continues to tilt Shane’s head.

“Well-” Shane grabs his wrist so that he would stop manhandling him, “All the better to eat you with, my dear.” It’s a joke but Ryan’s heart still flutters and he releases his face.

“Shut up, Shane.” His stomach grumbles loudly and Shane snickers “God, I am starved. Do you want to get some breakfast?” Shane stands and stretches spine popping. 

“Sure, let’s go.” He grins down at Ryan and there are those teeth again. Ryan chooses to ignore them for the time being.


	3. Mr. Fear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys are at yet another haunted location and Shane is being less subtle than usual.

The more Ryan thinks about it the more he thinks he’s going insane. It just doesn’t make any sense. But it’s not like he can go up to one of his coworkers and be all like, Have any of you noticed that Shane’s teeth sometimes look to sharp to be completely human. It’s been weeks since the Incident as he’s dubbed it and he’s definitely slowly going insane. sometimes he sees them when Shane smiles or laughs and almost always when they are alone. Not pointy exactly just sharp, to big for his mouth. It’s really fucking weird. 

They’re on their way to another location, Fairfield Hills State Hospital, and Shane is sitting in the passenger seat humming to himself. He’s slid down in the seat with his knees up on the dash, tapping away at his phone. It would be peaceful if not for the tumult of thought that Ryan is currently drowning in. His fingers clenching and unclenching on the steering wheel. He wants to ask but doesn't want to make things awkward, especially with the shoot coming up. His teeth weren’t always like that were they? No, he would have noticed sooner. Or maybe he’s only noticing now because he's paying more attention to Shane’s mouth. Fuck. Ryan resists the urge to smack his head against the wheel.

The asylum is pretty standard as far asylums go, same bleak history as the others, same hallways that stretch into unending darkness, same oppressive atmosphere. Ryan fucking hates it. He’s staring up at giant paint chipped pillars flanking the entrance when a flicker of movement in one of the windows catches his eye.

“Did you see that?” He turns to find Shane squinting up at the window.

“It was just the wind.” He doesn’t look away. There hasn’t been a breath of wind all day but as he says that a breeze picks up, raising the hair on the back of Ryan’s neck.

“Bullshit,” he mutters. Shane finally looks away from the window and grins down at him, teeth completely normal. It absolutely does not make his heart flutter. Not even a little bit.

“We’ve finished with the establishing shots, so whenever you want to head in.” T.J. says from behind them. 

They nod in tandem and Ryan shudders. “This place is so fucking creepy.” They put on their equipment and Ryan grabs the spirit box.

Mustering up his courage Ryan makes his way up the stairs, footsteps crunching on the loose sand. The rusted hinges on the door squeal as he pushes it open. The lobby, dust covered and decrepit, it’s floor tiles chipped and worn, paper peels off the walls in strips the once colorful walls faded with time. He looks back at Shane and makes an aborted hand gesture.

“You first,” the words come out shaky and raised at the end like a question. Shane shakes his head and huffs in amusement but steps forward anyway. The darkness presses in on Ryan and the dust nearly chokes him as he follows. He wants to reach out and grab Shane’s hand but he pushes the urge down. They venture deeper into the main room looking for a place to film the introduction. They decide on what was once the main office. The chairs they grab are gritty and Ryan’s hand comes back covered in dust. He wipes it on Shane’s arm.

“Wha- Hey” He laughs before running his own hands down Ryan’s chest, his fingers catching on his buttons. Ryan stumbles back his face burning. He disguises how flustered he is with a laugh.

“Well let’s get started.”

The filming went as smooth as it usually does. Ryan jumps at every little noise and Shane makes jokes that have them both laughing a little to hard for the grimness of their surroundings. As the investigation proceeds Ryan notices that Shane is acting twitchier than usual. Staring at nothing and yelling at the ghosts to come and kill him are all par for the course but tonight something seems off. Maybe it’s how he keeps standing a little to close, or maybe it’s how he bristled when the spirit box got turned on, or maybe it’s how he keeps touching Ryan. Nothing big, just a friendly bump of shoulders, a brush of hands. He grabs his wrist at one point and Ryan nearly jumps out of his skin. They don’t usually touch, not in any big way and it’s wearing on Ryan’s already frayed nerves. They are walking by a supply closet when a clang rings out from behind them. 

Ryan whirls around, “What was that!?”

“Just the wind, buddy.” Shane says calmly but the hand he placed on Ryan’s shoulder tightens painfully, “We should do our solo EVP sessions now. You go first.” Before he knows it Ryan is being shoved into the grim supply closet.

“Hey- wait!” He bangs on the door, “Not funny, Shane! Shane?” No answer. “Fuck,” Ryan mutters before deciding to make the best of the situation. The spirit box crackles to life and he winces at the noise. 

“G-t -ot” 

“Get out?” Ryan echoes, voice shaking.

“D--- run” The spirit box sputters between static pauses.

“Drum? What? Can you repeat that?” A bang comes from beyond the door, “Shane? How much longer?” 

“Three minutes,” his voice comes out distorted. Ryan blames it on the wall separating them.

“My name is Ryan. Can you repeat that?” he says desperately hoping it won’t answer.

“Ry- l--ve un-afe”

Something brushes his shoulder, “Oh, fuck! Was that you?” he turns trying to catch sight of whatever or whoever may have just touched him. 

Another bang, this time closer. Ryan jumps and the camera strapped to his chest shocks him. “Ow, wha-” The spirit box starts to freak out, a high pitched squeal cuts through the air. 

“Get out- he’s coming” it spits out.

“Who’s coming?”  he asks panic rising.

“To late-” 

“Times up!” The door swings open and Shane, grinning, appears in front Ryan. His eyes glint red and his teeth are too big, too sharp. Ryan gasps and stumbles back, smacking into the far wall of the closet. “Careful buddy, wouldn’t want another casualty tonight.” Shane laughs.

“Shut up, Shane.” The response is habitual, almost instinct. Ryan relaxes, “What was all that noise?”

Shane wrinkles his nose, it’s cute, “Oh, you heard that? Sorry.” It’s a non-answer and they both know it. His eyes are the same color they’ve always been but when Ryan blinks he can see red etched onto the back of his eyelids. 

Ryan Bergara is brave. He explores places he hates for proof of things he is afraid of. Ryan Bergara is brave and yet…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fairfield Hills State is a real asylum in Connecticut


	4. Modern Day Cain

He waits with bated breath for Shane to finish his solo EVP session. Every creak and groan of the asylum pushes him closer to the edge. 

“Ryan!” a voice echoes from somewhere over his shoulder. He spins around with barely controlled panic only to be faced with an amused T.J. Or, he thinks he’s amused it’s hard to tell with him. “Where’s Shane? We need to move on soon or we’re not going to be able to hit any of the outbuildings. If you want to get more than thirty minutes of sleep that is.”

“Yeah, he’s finishing up with his EVP,” Ryan nods to the closet, “Hey, um, did you hear anything earlier?”

He shakes his head “I was upstairs setting up the static cam.” 

“Ah,” Shane takes that moment to slam the closet door open, causing Ryan to startle for the second time in as many minutes. “Jesus Christ!”

Shane saunters over, “Nope, just me.”

Ryan laughs but it’s shaky, “Damn, I was hoping for some divine intervention,” he turns to T.J. “Upstairs?”

“Yup.”

Upstairs wasn’t any better than down but at least Shane had stopped hovering. Not that Ryan didn’t miss the closeness but he had a job to do. They went through the rest of the investigation with minimal hic-ups. The outbuildings were as nightmarish as anticipated. Ryan only used the spirit box once more. It spit out static and started to inaudibly screech whenever Shane came to close. “That’s fucking weird,” He comments the third time he inches too close.

“It hates you,” Ryan informs him as he switches off.

“The feeling is mutual,” he grins, baring his completely normal teeth. Ryan needs to get a grip. 

They start to settle down for the night, stirring up more dust is probably good for them. On one hand, Ryan doesn’t want to sleep further from Shane than he has to in this place and on the other he still sees red when he closes his eyes. 

“I hate this,” he says après pose to nothing. Shane raises an eyebrow but doesn’t otherwise respond. Ryan pushes his glasses up, hands still damp from taking out his contacts. “The dust,” he shakes out his sleeping bag, “the ghosts,” a creak echoes down the hall outside, “you,” he tries for a joke but it falls flat. 

Shane lets out a sigh, he looks tired. “I’m sorry,” he slumps down onto his sleeping bag. He looks suddenly older, as if someone had sucked the life out of him.

“Wha- Hey, I don’t actually hate you,” Ryan kneels in front of him. He grabs his hands. They’re cold and clammy but he doesn’t let go, “You know that right?”

Shane looks up and his eyes are glowing a faint red, “We can’t have this conversation here.”

“Wha-”

Shane gently extricates one of his hands from Ryan’s grip. He places it on the side of his face, “Go to sleep,” his voice like the ocean. Ryan obeys.

Ryan wakes when his alarm goes off. He reaches out blindly for his phone, refusing to open his eyes. “What time is it?” His voice muffled by his pillow.

“Seven-o-clock,” Shane’s voice drifts through the haze of sleep currently taking up most of the space in Ryan’s head.

“S’to early,” Ryan says. He can practically hear Shane roll his eyes. “Don’t laugh at me Mr. I’ll kick your ass,” This time Shane really does laugh.

“Not if you don’t get out of bed you won’t.” He kicks Ryan gently in the side, “C’mon, Teej is probably waiting by now. 

Ryan finally pries himself up off the floor. Rubbing his eyes he squints at Shane “How are you so awake right now?” Shane just grins and shakes his head.

By the time Ryan is fully awake they’ve filmed the outro and made they’re way out of the asylum. Last night keeps coming back in flashes. Red eyes and a cold hands, being shoved into a closet and the screeching of the spirit box. He knows Shane is watching him, waiting for something. He’s not being obvious but Ryan can still tell.

“What?” He asks after almost ten minutes of near silent driving.

“I’m-” he starts.

“If finish that sentence with ‘sorry’ I will throw you out the window. I don’t even know what your being ‘sorry’ for!” Ryan throws his hands up in frustration.

Shane wheezes slightly and shakes his head, “Watch the road there little guy.”

“Shut up, Shane.”

After a couple more minutes of silence Shane takes a deep breath, “You have questions, right. So…” he trails off.

Ryan thinks he looks nervous, “What’s with the teeth? It’s the first thing I noticed.” The day seems to have taken a surrealist turn so he might as well roll with it.

There’s a light thump from the passenger side, “This would be easier if I could just show you.” 

Ryan swallows and anxiety starts to simmer low in his gut. He watches from the corner of his eye as Shane digs his phone out of his pocket, “Whatcha doin’?” he ventures.

“Calling Devon.” He holds his hand up as the phone starts to ring.

“Hello,” Devon’s voice sounds tinny and small.

“Hey, Devon. Me and Ryan are gonna take a detour real quick. We’ll be back before midnight.” Shane says.

“As long as you’re sober,” She replies “Be safe, bye.” 

“Buh-bye.” Shane hangs up. “Turn here,” his voice echoes slightly.

“Where are we going?” Ryan asks even as he rounds the corner. The anxiety is at more of a boil now.

“The Ocean.” The statement is flat but the words still reverberate through Ryan’s head.

Ryan smells the salt before he sees the waves. They parked ten minutes back and he’s been following Shane along an overgrown trail that has been sloping progressively down. Suddenly the trail opens out and they’re standing on the edge of the world. The ocean stretches as far as the eye can see. Now, Ryan is used to the ocean, he grew up in Southern California after all, but there is something about New England that makes it seem more somehow. Shane turns to face him his back to the cliff. He takes a breath.

“Ready?” the question seems to be directed at the both of them. Ryan nods.

Shane’s eyes flash red, as his teeth sharpen and grow his jaw distends, his skin tightens and grays. It happens in the space in between breaths. Ryan blinks and the face of an angler fish has replaced his best friends. Ryan doesn’t think he just does. The next thing he knows is that his fist hurts and Shane, now normal, is stumbling back holding his nose. Ryan watches as Shane takes one step too far backwards and slips. It’s like watching a horror movie. He lunges forward but it’s too late. His fingers brush Shane's shirt as he topples off the cliff.

“Shane!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shane looks like this at the for reference https://www.artstation.com/artwork/VY92b  
> All of the chapter titles are also songs that inspired me during the writing process  
> Also, I sort of hand waved Connecticut's geography


End file.
